The Wish List
by GeekyContradiction
Summary: My Husband Will… 1. Be Charming 2. Be Rich 3. Be a Prince 4. Adore Me 5. Be Loved By My Family 6. Treat Me like a Princess 7. Worship Me 8. Always Agree With Me 9. Love Me Better Than My Family 10. Be Handsome When Rose finds a list made when she was little, a little bit of teasing ensues.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own a computer and a bag of peppermint patties, not HP**

**I know that handsome is spelled wrong, it has some relevance later.**

Rose was a generally organized person which pretty much eliminated the necessity for spending copious amounts of time cleaning. But after her boyfriend had asked her to move in with him, she had been forced to sort through all of her possessions to decide which would be left at the burrow and which would come with her to the flat they had rented. Unfortunately, being the organized person she was, she was quite used to having cleaning mean looking around the room and maybe moving a few photographs or potions back to the proper place which made the task of actually cleaning seem even more interminable.

Growing excessively frustrated, she had gone through the more recent junk first, sorting it into three piles: Trash, which, as the name implied, mostly held trash like junk mail and random scraps of paper, Bring, which was composed of pictures of her, family, and Scorpius and clothes, and Leave, which was posters of Quidditch teams and stuffed animals that she had probably treasured when she was younger. Of course, there was the occasional exception in all three groups-her healer certification license which would not and could not go into the trash pile, a pair of too small and worn jeans that really weren't worth keeping, or the more current poster that bore a moving image of her cousin James, a gift that waved and winked more than Gilderoy Lockhart supposedly had- but, altogether, the monotony of the task did not suit her more adventurous tendencies. In fact, she was so unhappy that she almost jumped with happiness when her mother called her for supper. She had welcomed the human contact and conversation with open arms, quite literally, and hugged her brother when he came back from practicing Quidditch on the field in the backyard.

Maybe she was being just a little bit dramatic, but come on, sitting locked up in her parent's attic the day after graduation was not her idea of fun.

"You look like you're having a good time up there." Hugo's remark regarding the expression on her face once dinner was finished was, however accurate, not appreciated by his already provoked sister and had earned him a right slap on the face.

Her mother's response to the action was not appreciated either as it reminded her of the childhood junk that she still had to go through, "Would you two grow up? Rose, you are 19 years old; start acting like it." She resisted the urge, as tempting as it was, to remind her mother that she had been an only child and, therefore, did not understand what little brothers (or sisters, she wasn't sexist) were like.

Regrettably, her break from cleaning had to come to an end, as all good things must, and she returned to the piles of paraphernalia waiting to be categorized. As she restarted her system, she wished, for the millionth time, that Alice was there to help her and considered, for the trillionth time, calling her with the fellytone(telephone, she really needed to remember to pronounce that correctly) that her mother kept up there and begging her to help. But despite her best friend's talent at organizing, she wasn't at the point of ruining her and her boyfriend- who, you know, just happened to be her cousin-'s vacation in Ireland just because she was getting cranky.

However, she did decide that a short chat wouldn't kill either one of them.

"Alice Longbottom speaking. What's up?"

"About 17,000 belongings that need to be sorted," She couldn't help but complain; it was most likely the only thing that was keeping her from being crankier than a werewolf after a, "time of the month," joke.

"Okay, what do you want me to do about it?"

"Got any advice for me?" The spark of hope buried within her soul (very poetic, isn't it) ignited at the chance to possibly get done faster.

"Try playing music."

"Thanks," She hung up and started the music before returning to the piles and the tedious task before her.

It was several hours and a few naps later that she noticed something interesting. She had been half-asleep and had almost overlooked it but the bold lettering on the header of the paper had caught her eye and piqued her interest. Picking the letter up, she inspected it and performed a few hex and charm detection charms-because only Merlin knows what Fred and James could have done with it- before actually opening it and reading the messy scrawl that was her handwriting.

**My Husband Will…**

**1. Be Charming**

**2. Be Rich**

**3. Be a Prince**

**4. Adore Me**

**5. Be Loved By My Family**

**6. Treat Me like a Princess**

**7. Worship Me**

**8. Always Agree With Me**

**9. Love Me Better Than My Family**

**10. Be Hansome**

She recognized the list as the, "wish list," she had made when she was seven after watching some muggle princess movie at her Cousin Lily's insistence. Looking at it, she realized how ridiculous most of the things on the list were, particularly the prince part, but they also gave her an idea. Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill, she reread the list and tallied all of the points that her boyfriend got and, when she saw the result, smirked with a deviousness that most likely would have permanently scarred young children. Abandoning her task and taking care to preserve the damaged parchment, she picked up her bag and disaparated to Scorpius' then residence, Malfoy Manor, with one last evil thought poisoning her mind.

_For the first time ever, I'm going to get a better score than him at something._

__**Review.**


	2. Chapter 2

To say that Scorpius was surprised when his girlfriend came running through the door of Malfoy Manor would be one of the biggest understatements of the century, following, "Harry Potter is famous," and, "Voldemort is evil." Not that he didn't love her, because he did, but spontaneity was not exactly one of her strong traits-something that she had always blamed on her mother's new-found sense of rationality ("So what if I embarked on a life-threatening task that had a very low predicted success rate on a whim when I was 17, now that everything has settled down, I should develop some sense of self-preservation," as Rose often used to describe Mrs. Weasley's attitude)- and apparating to his house without carefully thought-out reasoning was not characteristic of her. Of course, the alarm may have also been caused by the fact that she didn't usually _maul _him as a way of saying hello.

It's just a thought.

"Well, hello to you too." Had she not been so incredibly smug about the parchment she still gripped tightly in her hands, she probably would have rolled her eyes at his smirk. "Listen, I know that I'm just that amazing, but would you mind waiting to jump me until after we _don't _have to worry about my parents walking in on us." She probably wouldn't have taken that lying down-figuratively and literally, as she had not quite gotten up from the marble floor-either, but she felt that feeling just a bit giddy about beating her boyfriend after something close to eight years of tying at everything was justifiable.

After climbing off of him and sitting him down on a chair, she actually started on the task that she had come for," Okay, I understand how hard it is for you to act like you're an immature little boy," The sarcasm was not taken positively and he glared at her," But I need you to think about your seven-year-old self's dream girl and list all of her traits," His expression was permissibly confused, as she could see how odd that her request sounded, but it didn't stop her from pushing him to do it anyways.

"Well back off; I can't think about this while you're practically sitting on my lap." He shooed her by flicking his wrists towards the door and she reluctantly backed up, giving him, what she considered, acceptable personal space. Within a few minutes of intense debate and soul searching (she scoffed at the idea that figuring it out was that hard), he decided that he had done what she'd asked and handed her the list, elegantly written in his aristocratic handwriting.

**My Dream Girl**

**1. Will love absolutely everything about me**

**2. Will be pure-blood**

The dirty look she shot at him as she read the second one would have made He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named scream in terror, but he quickly explained, for fear of his life," My father allowed my grandfather a little bit too much time around me when I was younger,"

**3. Will be stunningly beautiful**

**4. Will do whatever I tell her to**

**5. Will kick butt**

"Will kick butt? Really, that's what you want in a girl?"

"I'm trying to put myself in my seven-year-old self's perspective," He replied defensively.

**6. Will be a trophy wife**

**7. Will love me as much as I love her**

No prompting was necessary for his explanation," I saw examples of loveless, arranged marriages everywhere in my grandparent's friends."

**8. Will always let me win **

**9. Will praise and adore me**

**10. Will make my friends jealous**

"Why is it so easy for me to see a seven-year-old you writing this list?" She shook her head at him while he faked hurt.

"So, why did you want me to do that? As much as I would still love a girl like this, I've kind of got a girlfriend right now and I don't think she'd be too happy with that idea." Instead of giving him the satisfaction of replying, she began scrutinizing the lists, comparing results.

"If you had to give me a score, compared to this list, what would you give me?"

"If this is another low self-esteem period, all you need to know is that I love you for what you are." She couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, but she looked at his like he was crazy while shaking her head. "Oh, you were being serious."

"I need to compare my score to yours," As he heard her, Scorpius honestly considered sending her to the mental ward at St. Mungos.

"I found a list of characteristics of my perfect husband while sorting through the attic and I'm pretty sure that I'd do better on your than you did on mine." He smiled as he caught something in her writing that he was sure that she hadn't noticed.

"You just said husband; we aren't married,"

"It still counts, and you spelled handsome wrong."

"Give me a break; I was seven," He rolled his eyes and began looking through the list, checking them off as she did the same on hers.

"No. No. I'll give you that one. Yeah, right. You do have some really nasty hexes. Not going to happen. Yes. No. No. I'll give you half because the 50% of people that I hang out with that aren't related to you or female are jealous. Your total comes to…"

"Unfortunately, yes. Yes. No. No. Heck no. No. No. You'd commit suicide before you did that. I'll give you half because I'm still waiting for you to announce that you love Albus more than me," He had actually stopped listing to glare at her, "I hate to admit it, but yes. You get…"

"Three and a half," They finished in unison.

* * *

**So, it didn't come out as funny as I hoped it would but basically, they've tied in everything from school to prefect positions to head boy and girl and she thinks that she's actually going to pull ahead when we find out they've tied again.**


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